Wish Come True

by Kaol

        Tom gazed at his computer in wonder. Never in his wildest imagination would he have dreamed it possible, but there it was staring him in the face. Now he was sure he knew how Dorothy must have felt, stepping from sepia-toned Kansas into Technicolor Oz. It was like someone had reached in and given his brains a sharp yank to the side.

        He scrolled down and looked in wide-eyed wonder at all the links to sites that featured quicksand. His fingers trembled ever so slightly and his heart raced as if he were caught in the substance itself. Quicksand. Oh, so much quicksand! He didnt know where to begin. For years he had been captivated by this stuff, but had quickly come to realize his fascination was not shared by society at large. Yet he had become an amateur sleuth, seeking out quicksand in the media and collecting references to it. He had videos at home full of television episodes and movies in which quicksand appeared. Countless hours had been spent scouring lousy films in the hopes of finding even a thirty second quicksand sequence. It was like panning for gold, usually you got nothing, but oh, nirvana when you found it!

        Now he felt like a pauper who, proud of the few coins he has pulled together, steps into Fort Knox and discovers what real wealth is. It was sensory overload, but he loved it!

        Fresh out of college, starting a new job, Tom had immediately invested in a new computer for himself. He hadnt done much more than word-processing in college, and had been anxious to play on the internet. Deep inside he had fantasized he might even find some new sources of quicksand information, but nowhere in his wildest dreams did he expect this!

        There were countless pages of images, sounds, video, stories...all dedicated to quicksand! It had to be a dream, but he would hate to awaken if it was. It was as if an alien civilization had contacted the earth. He suddenly realized that he was not alone! It was liberating and terrifying at the same time. If he was a freak, at least there were others in the circus as well.

        But...and this idea was almost overwhelming...could there also be women out there with this fascination as well? No, he leaped away from that thought, not wanting to spoil this moment of revelation by having that dream destroyed. That was just asking too much. It was clear that this page he had stumbled upon was managed by a male, as it featured primarily women in quicksand, and that wouldnt likely be the focus of a page run by a woman...would it? God, at this point, Tom realized that anything was possible. He truly had believed ten minutes ago that no one else on earth could possibly be turned on by quicksand. He had been wrong. If such a basic truth was revealed to be a lie, what other long held beliefs were also false?

        Reaching out, Tom turned off the computer. Too much. It was just too much. He couldnt assimilate it all at once. He felt like he had won the lottery and just didnt know what to do. His beliefs about the world had abruptly been shaken to the root.

        Tom had trouble falling asleep that night.

        Tom called in sick to work the next morning. He figured he could afford it, plus he knew there was no way he could concentrate on the job until he had the chance to really wade into this new discovery. Like an explorer forging out into the wilderness, Tom took a deep breath and turned on his computer. He wasnt sure where hed end up, but he was excited to find out.

        Rather than start at the web page hed discovered and tucked into his Favorite Places folder, Tom decided to try to determine if he could actually contact another person with this interest. Not to put too fine a point on it, could he find a female with this interest? Tom had a girl he was dating, but he was certain she wouldnt go for the quicksand thing, and if he could find a woman into quicksand, well...all bets would be off with Carla. His mind whirled off in a tangent, picturing a woman whom he could sink with forever and ever. If that wasnt enough to build a relationship on, well, what was? He smirked at the thought. Okay, it wasnt enough, but it would be an incredible place to start, wouldnt it? A woman into quicksand would be closer to a soul mate right off than anyone else hed ever been with.

        Where to begin? In the right corner of his screen was a box that said, "People". He clicked on that and saw an item that read "Search AOL Member Directory". Toms eyes narrowed. Stanley, meet Livingstone, he thought. Anxiously, he typed in quicksand and hit search.

        "Oh, my god!" Tom mumbled, sitting back in his chair. There were over 100 entries! Could it be that he was not only not alone, but there were hundreds of folks like him? He clicked on the first profile in the list and this delusion was immediately shattered. It was a female all right, about 14 from the looks of her profile, and she had written in an irritating cacophony of caps and small letters, "lOve iS LIkE qUicKSaNd, tHE DeEpER YOU fAll In THe hArDEr iT iS To GEt oUt."

        "How bloody deep," Tom snorted. Ill bet if you tried some real quicksand youd be forgetting about love for a few moments, he thought.

        With his excitement somewhat diminished, Tom tried again. Strike two. This individual had an endless list of rock groups he liked, the band Quicksand, being one of them. Tom was familiar with the group, and had been terribly disappointed when they had never made use of their name for a decent album cover.

        Blowing out a long breath of air, Tom realized this wasnt working. AOL only offered the first 100 folks with quicksand in their profiles, and they could all be fans of refrigerator magnet poetry or hard core rock. He had to narrow the search a bit.

        First off, he thought, lets see about focusing on females. This time he typed in quicksand female. Again, over 100 entries came up. He felt the enthusiasm wash over him, but with less force than before. There were at least 100 females out there with quicksand in their profiles, but did any of them have it in their hearts? Time to find out.

        Anxiously Tom began clicking through profiles. He went through the first ten without any of them mentioning it in the context he desired. Time to narrow the search further. "Okay," he spoke softly to himself. "How about quicksand female sink?" The keyboard clicked beneath his tremorous fingertips.

        This time only 32 profiles came up. Tom leaned towards the screen and read the screen names, wondering if he was any nearer the grail. There had to be a woman out there who shared his interests. There just HAD to be.

        Most of the names seemed nondescript enough, but then he came across one that seemed quite promising. It read, SexySink, and Tom was almost afraid to click on it, not wanting to be dealt another disappointment. Still, he had to find out.

        As the profile opened, Tom felt his mouth go dry. It was impossible, yet wasnt that a word that no longer fit in his vocabulary? Under interests it said, "Sinking into quicksand, hopefully in the arms of a man who knows what to do with me there." Tom felt like his head swimming. Needles danced in his fingertips. This had to be a joke. Had to be.

        Oh god, but what if it wasnt? But he knew from hearing other folks talk that the internet was full of men pretending to be women. Thats what this had to be. Yeah, that was obviously it. No woman would write something like that. No. No way. A guy pretending to be a woman, sure, but not a real woman. Yet Tom couldnt convince himself completely one way or the other. Finally leaning forward, Tom knew what he had to do. It was a foregone conclusion when he first saw the profile. He hit the button that read email.

        But what to say? How to impress someone he had never met with only simple text? He glanced at the cursor blinking before him. It was important not to sound like a freak, but he didnt want to sound bland either. What to say, dammit?

        "Fuck it," he mumbled, and began typing.

                            "Dear Shari,

                            I saw your profile and knew I had to write you. All I can

                            figure is you had me in mind when you wrote that. I hope

                            to hear back from you, as I think we have much to share."

        Okay, Shakespeare it wasnt, but Tom hoped it would be enough to get a response.

        He hit send, and watched as he cast his fate to the electronic winds. Should he try and find someone else? No, he decided that would be too much like cheating on his new potential love. Crazy as it might be, he had to wait to hear from Shari before moving on.

        But there was still much to do. Tom clicked on his favorite places icon and went back to the quicksand site hed discovered the night before. He effectively immersed himself within it, feeling like a boggy glutton, but unable to stop himself. Granted, he stopped every ten minutes to check if SexySink had read her mail yet, but that didnt take away from his enjoyment of the multiple quicksand sites hed discovered.

        Time passed without his hardly being aware of it. Suddenly a jingling sound emerged from his PCs speakers, interrupting his thoughts. He minimized the screen and saw a dialogue box in his computer window. The name "SexySink" was illuminated in bold red letters, followed by "I got your email. Hi."

        It felt like hed been kicked in the gut. There was no air to be had. He couldnt breathe. What was he supposed to do? Nothing had prepared him for this moment. Tom wasnt a total novice in relationships, but when it came to the internet, he was still very green. When it came to meeting the woman of his dreams through an IM, he was so green Kermit would be envious.

        "Hi!" he typed back. Not a great start, he knew, but he couldnt think of anything else. Hell, he could barely type. It was crucial he not blow this.

        He waited. Nothing happened. He began to panic. He was blowing it. She was bored, figuring he was some freak. What to do?

        "So, you like quicksand?" he typed hurriedly. Not the best pick-up line, but it was one hed been dying to try out for years.

        "Very much," came the reply.

        "Oh god," Tom breathed and squirmed in his chair. He was incredibly turned on by this situation, as absurd as it would seem to most anyone else. This girl had his number and could lead him by the nose already.

        "Excellent," he continued typing. "Me too. Ive never met anyone who got into this before."

        "Really?"

        "Yeah, I just got online yesterday. Are there others like us?"

        "There are others who like quicksand," she typed back.

        "This is amazing," Tom typed, but worried he wasnt making the connection he wanted. How did he know? In real life there were hundreds of little signals you could read in someone when you talked with them, ways of knowing if they were excited or bored beyond tears. How did one do that on the internet?

        "Have you ever been in quicksand?" SexySink asked.

        "I dont know. Ive been in deep mud, but I dont know if it was really quicksand," Tom honestly replied.

        "Its the best."

        "Really?" Tom typed, beyond excitement now. He had to reach down and rearrange his crotch to sit comfortably. This was beyond his wildest expectations. He was talking to a woman who had actually been in quicksand and enjoyed the experience. His mind tried imagining what she looked like. God, please let her be at least halfway attractive, he prayed. It was stupid and insane, but he thought he was actually falling in love with this person already. A woman who was turned on by quicksand was more than hed ever hoped for and here she was!

        "Really," came the response. "Its the ultimate turn on. It just gets me so hot."

        Tom squeezed his eyes shut, but when he opened them the words were still there. Suspicion took that moment to reassert itself. This was a put on. It had to be. Someone was playing mind games with him, and he was falling for it. From spending the morning on the quicksand websites it was obvious there were plenty of folks into quicksand just as much as he was, and it seemed the vast majority were male. This had to be some guy having a laugh at his expense. It made more sense than anything if he stopped to think about it. What woman would talk this way to a guy she had just met?

        Yet doubt lingered. He might as well ask what woman would be sexually aroused by quicksand? Or for that matter, what man? If one was possible, why not the other? He had to remember anything was possible now. But how could he find out if she was real? He didnt want to insult her and drive away this woman if she was real, but by the same token he didnt want to be played a fool.

        Sighing, Tom decided to try to be relatively honest. "Im really glad to meet you. Do you have a photo of yourself."

        "I wondered when youd get around to asking," SexySink replied. "Hold on and Ill email one to you."

        "Thanks," Tom typed, considering her reply. Obviously he wasnt the first shed talked to this way, and he found jealousy crawl into his chest and settle heavily there. Absurd to be jealous of a woman hed only just now met online, but Tom recognized the feeling.

        "Youve got mail," a voice intoned. Tom opened it and anxiously stared at the picture within. He was not disappointed in any way. She was not an obvious model, nor was she unattractive. If anything, she was on the positive side of average, with short, dark hair and wide eyes. She was turned to the side, looking to her right with a playful smile on her face. Yet to Tom she was the most beautiful woman hed ever laid eyes on. He had feared it would be a photo of some model that some guy was passing around to try to fool the naive. But this picture was obviously not professional, which Tom considered a plus. It had to be Shari, didnt it then? Wow, she was real, attractive, and hot for quicksand. Tom knew he couldnt blow this or hed hate himself the rest of his life.

        "You are a total knockout," he typed. Not the complete truth, but close enough.

        "Thanks. Do you have a pic of yourself?"

        "Sorry, I dont have a scanner or anything yet."

        "Right. Where do you live?"

        "Missouri," Tom responded. "You?"

        "Iowa," SexySink typed back. "Do you have any quicksand near you?"

        "Not really," Tom typed. "I hoped I could find some on the internet."

        "I know where some is. Bottomless too."

        "Where?"

        "Got to go to work. Maybe see you here tomorrow?"

        "What time?" Tom typed feeling a wave of panic ready to wash over him. He feared he was losing her already and it felt as if his heart was breaking.

        "Same time."

        And then she was gone.

        Tom stared at the screen in mild wonder. He found himself wondering if it had all really happened. It had been so quick! He shifted in his chair again. His erection resting heavily on his thigh certainly suggested something had happened. How could he possibly wait 24 hours to have contact with her again? He stared at her image in the still open email. His eyes burned into it as if trying to etch it physically into his brain. Tom knew he would carry that with him each of those long hours. He couldnt see her whole body, but pictured it covered in sucking, wet earth. The visual was too much. Tilting his head slightly to the side, he could imagine her head tilted back, struggling to keep it above the surface while her body succumbed to the joy of the mire.

        Standing up quickly, Tom ran up the stairs of his apartment to the bathroom. It was time to take a shower and release some extreme tension in his body.

        It meant calling in sick for the second day in a row, but it had been pretty much a no-brainer. As if he was going to sacrifice the love of his life for a couple dollars over minimum wage! Still, he wondered if she would let him down or not. He could be risking his job for absolutely nothing. It was a risk he knew he had to take, but it still filled him with anxiety. His glance kept returning to the chrome clock on is wall. Five minutes. Of course, she didnt say shed contact him at exactly the same time.

        Tom tried distracting himself by reading quicksand stories on the web, but that did little to stop him from thinking about Shari. Truth to tell, he doubted a knife in the ribs would prevent him from thinking about Shari at this point.

        Zero hour. No sign of Shari. Tom tried to relax. No big deal. She wasnt a train with a schedule to keep. He considered that she might even be trying to be fashionably late. If anything, it seemed another sign that it was a real woman he was dealing with. Most women he knew were almost never on time.

        Five minutes past. Okay. She wasnt going to be online. Tom decided he had been right and had indeed been played a fool. Well, it had happened off-line in the past, why wouldnt it happen online as well. Still, he had...

        "Hello"

        The dialogue box opened before him and he felt his face flush with relief. All his doubts were brushed away as if they were dandelion seeds in a summer breeze. It was her. She was back.

        "Hello," he typed eagerly, his fingers fairly tumbling over each other in their excitement to give response.

        "I visited my quicksand yesterday." Tom grinned at this message from her. She didnt play around. He liked that. Straight to the point.

        "Im jealous," he responded.

        "It was so good. After talking to you I just had to go in that night. I sank in up to my lower lip."

        "Wow. Wish I could have been there."

        "Me too."

        Tom stared at those last two words and found himself hard down below once again. She was teasing him. Flirting. Thats all it was. She didnt mean it. Couldnt really mean it. Could she? Theyd just met. She didnt know what he looked like. All she knew was he was a quicksand fan like her. So it had to be simple flirting. Yet in spite of all his internal arguments, Tom couldnt entirely convince himself. What if she had felt the same connection with him that he felt with her? It was possible! Why not? Why the hell not?

        "Maybe sometime I could join you," he typed, holding his breath. What would she think of this?

        "You married?" came the reply.

        "No. Im available," he typed. It was true. No other relationship hed ever had came close to the fire he felt from this mystery woman.

        "Excellent. Maybe we can meet sometime for some mutual sinking."

        "We are in neighboring states," Tom replied with barely restrained excitement. "Id like to experience real quicksand."

        "Maybe. Arent you afraid of sinking with a total stranger?"

        "Not at all. I dont feel like you are a stranger anyway. It seems we are on the same wavelength."

        "I think so too. Ive never sunk with a guy before."

        "Really? Great, I can be your first," Tom replied, feeling a lightness in his head. He recognized the feeling. He was falling in love with this woman. Crazy as others might find that, he knew it was true. And even more unbelievably, if he played his cards right, he might soon realize his dream of making love to someone while in quicksand. Something told him he was on his way as long as he didnt do anything to spoil it.

        "Mmm, I think Id like that. But is that all you want to do, just sink?"

        Tom squirmed in his seat. God, how he wanted this woman. And incredibly, it seemed clear that she wanted him as well. It was such a delicate dance he was in, though, and he couldnt see her face if he inadvertently stepped on a toe. Did she want someone aggressive and take charge or someone more sensitive and careful? God, he didnt want to let her get away.

        "Yes, I want to sink, into quicksand, into you, whichever." Damn the torpedoes and full speed ahead, Tom decided.

        "Mmm, no preference?"

        "Both," Tom replied. "Together, apart, all combinations."

        "I like your style," SexySink responded. "You are getting me wet."

        "And me hard. Give me directions to your quicksand and Ill meet you there."

        "Slow down," came back the message. "There will be time for that."

        "How soon?" Tom typed. He wanted her desperately. Had to have her. Had to have her immediately.

        "Soon. Ah, thats better. I just touched myself somewhere very naughty. You can decide where."

        "Let me touch you," Tom replied, self-control scarcely an option. "You wont regret it."

        "You are an eager beaver."

        "Eager for yours," Tom typed.

        "I can see that. What the hell. Do you really want to do this?"

        "YES!!!"

        "But we dont even really know each other," replied SexySink.

        "And meeting will let us get to know each other. It will be a dream come true for both of us, Im sure of it," Tom wrote back.

        "This is nuts."

        "But a good nuts."

        "It would be fun to sink in quicksand with a man."

        "You wont regret it," answered Tom. "Come on, what have you got to lose?"

        "Hmm, meeting a strange man in the middle of nowhere?"

        "But Im not strange! Certainly you can tell that! I wont do anything you dont want me to do, I promise!"

        "This is nuts, but I believe you. The idea just makes me so horny."

        "Ive got the cure for that," Tom typed. "Please."

        "Okay. Ill email you directions to the spot. When can you meet me there?"

        "Tonight."

        "No, too soon. How about tomorrow about seven?

        "Ill be there." Tom wrote back. He would too. Hell or high water.

        "I cant wait. You wont be sorry."

        "I know," Tom said out loud as he ran his fingers over the keyboard.

        "Im emailing directions now. I think Im going to go test the place out right now. Make it ready for us. See you soon."

        "Cant wait."

        "Me neither," replied SexySink, and then she was gone.

        Tom sat back in his chair and stared mutely at the screen. His head buzzed as if he was drunk, but he was sober. At least no alcohol had caused this disconcerting high. There was an incredible excitement that had him wanting to leap out of the chair and rush to the car now. He knew that there was no need. He had plenty of time to drive to Iowa, wherever she was in the state, but he wanted to be there with time to spare.

        It was nuts. Shari had said so herself. Tom had not doubt one that if he told any of his friends what he was planning they would try talking him out of it. On the surface, it was insane. A shrinking yet rational part of his mind knew that. He was going to drive hundreds of miles to meet a woman he barely knew in order to sink in quicksand and hopefully have sex with her. Absurd! Preposterous! Insane! Yet other descriptors fit as well. Erotic! Spontaneous! Inevitable! What was the worst thing that could happen anyway? She might not show up. He would have wasted a day in his life.

        But if she did show up, what then? Only a dream come true. Only the thing he had fantasized about for years. Only the person he might spend the rest of his life with might meet him for the first time. Was it worth a possible wasted day? Tom didnt have to think twice about that.

        Still, he knew he couldnt explain that to anyone else. They wouldnt understand. How could they? He didnt even understand it. But he instinctively knew it was the right thing to do. He was meant to meet her.

        The next day didnt come soon enough, and as the sun just began creeping over the horizon, Tom was in his car and driving north. Sharis directions were lying on the seat next to him. She lived in Cedar Rapids, not more than a 4 hour drive from him, but he was taking no chances. If he got a flat or his car had problems, Tom wanted time to get them repaired and still make it to their rendezvous point in time.

        As he drove he tried picturing their meeting for the first time. He hoped she wouldnt be disappointed by him. He knew he wouldnt be disappointed by her. A printed copy of her picture was taped on the dashboard so that he could glance over and see her whenever he wanted. With each glance she became more beautiful to him. What would her body look like? Would he get to see it naked? How would it feel to hold her? More importantly, what would it feel like to feel her pressed against him while slowly sinking into quicksand? He tried envisioning the mud squelching and shaking about them as their hips wriggled against each other, her breasts pushed against his chest. How tall was she? Would he have to bend over much to kiss her? The quicksand could be a great equalizer when it came to that.

        Tom wondered what she would be wearing when she showed up. Would she be wearing anything? Would she want to step into the quicksand with clothing on or off. He would do whatever she wanted.

        The drive to Iowa went smoothly and he arrived before noon, with many hours to kill before they were due to meet. As he drove through the city, he found himself wondering more about this stranger he was going to meet. He knew virtually nothing about her, except that she had a job and loved quicksand. What did she do for a living? Where in town did she work? He really did want to find out more about her. But while he had a million questions, he knew they could wait. Tom had not driven all the way up here just to converse with her. There would be time for that later.

        Tom drove around, stopping from time to time at various stores to kill time. He glanced at his watch frequently. He didnt want to arrive at the site too early. Part of him wanted to get there and try out the quicksand for himself. Yet he decided not to do that. Somehow, that would be too much like cheating. She might be offended if she came and found him already in the quicksand. No, it was better to save himself for her.

        An hour ahead of time, he decided it was okay to go. Like an anxious child waiting to go check on his presents Christmas morning, Tom decided it was okay to arrive. He would be early, but that was okay. That was he could be sitting there when she drove up. He would try to appear all relaxed and casual.

        Tom stopped his car at the spot she had suggested. He was out in the country now, and there was a chain across two posts blocking what seemed to be a dirt road. According to her directions, he was to leave his car out there and walk down the path about a quarter mile. She said that off to the right was the area that had the quicksand. Tom climbed out of the car and moved forward quickly. It was a hot, summer day, and his feet kicked up dust as he walked on the road. Yet he could hardly keep from breaking into a sprint. This could be it, the real thing, real quicksand. Sure, hed played in deep mud, but never honest-to-goodness quicksand.

        The weeds were high here, coming up almost to his head as he pushed through them. Mosquitoes buzzed around and he cursed himself for not bringing bug spray. He just hoped that when he and Shari were sinking that they would be too distracted to notice.

        The weeds thinned out as he stepped onto what seemed to be a dark beach. About 20 yards away was a pond, which seemed perfect for clean-up. Tom stared down at the sand. Tentatively he put a foot out on the surface. Seemed solid. He stepped onto it. Let it take his weight. Still solid. Where was it? He knew it had to be part of this beach, but where? A slow smile spread across his face. It was exciting to think about. Thats what quicksand was about, wasnt it? It lay in wait like a spider in its web. Its victim would be walking along, not realizing the peril, and then...slurp! The ground began engulfing you like some ravenous beast. He scanned the surface of the beach, looking for some clue. But even for someone like himself who wanted to see it, he could see nothing. It took all his control not to run around trying to find it. He could wait for Shari. Hed make himself wait.

        "Looks inviting, doesnt it?" said a voice from behind him.

        Tom spun around quickly. Before hed even completed his turn, however, he knew something was wrong. The voice that had addressed him wasnt female, but distinctly male. Tom wasnt sure how this guy had snuck up on him that way, but then realized that he had been rather lost in his thoughts a moment ago. "Sorry?" was all Tom managed to get out as he sized up his current situation.

        The guy addressing him was basically Toms size, about average height with an athletic build. His hair was a bit on the long side and his eyes were covered by dark sunglasses. He was smiling at Tom, but the smile wasnt especially friendly, more of a smirk than a smile, really. A dark mustache covered his upper lip, and Tom decided without needing to spend any more time with this fellow that he didnt like him. Toms eyes darted back and forth, looking for Shari at the same time. Tom had to get rid of this guy before he ruined everything. What if Shari saw the two of them and scampered off to avoid detection herself?

        "Youre here checking out the quicksand, right?" the guy said, and the smirk on his face carried over to his voice.

        "No," Tom replied immediately, years of denying his interest leaping automatically into his throat.

        "Liar," the guy replied in the same self-satisfied tone. "I saw you scoping it out. Trying to find it, right?"

        "Who are you?" Tom asked, feeling totally off-balance. This was not going at all the way he had planned.

        "Me? Im Shari, also known as SexySink," the guy replied, and this time his grin grew even wider, teeth showing in total self-satisfaction. Tom thought he looked like a shark.

        It felt to Tom as if someone had broken a two-by-four across his shoulders, and he felt his knees quiver. His testicles seemed to shrivel into raisins and his throat narrowed, making it hard to breathe. No. That was all his mind could process, as far as it could go. No. No. No. No. No. No. No.

        "Surprised, huh?" the man laughed, a deep throaty sound containing no joy but a much darker emotion. It clearly reveled in Toms evident discomfort. "Not as cute as my picture, I guess."

        Tom couldnt speak. Shari wasnt real? Or had this guy done something to her? Was this her boyfriend maybe? Had he found out about them? Tom had never asked Shari if she was involved with anyone. This guy couldnt actually be Shari, could he? No way. He couldnt have been that gullible. This had to be her jealous husband or something. Had to be.

        "Wheres Shari?" he managed to croak out.

        The man stopped laughing instantly. "You lame fuck, I am Shari. God you are as stupid in person as you were online. You should have gullible tattooed across your forehead."

        "Why?"

        "Why what? Why did I do this?" the man replied. Before he could complete his sentence, Tom saw him reach behind his back with one hand. When his hand returned, Tom was staring down the barrel of a handgun. Tom knew nothing about guns, but then, he was realizing suddenly that there seemed to be little in life he did truly know much about. All the same, the barrel was big and mean looking and he really didnt like the way it was pointed at him. Automatically, taking his cue from countless movies, Tom raised his arms into the air.

        "What do you want?" Tom asked. "You want my money? Did you trick me up here just to rob me?"

        "No," said the man, shaking his head. "I tricked you up here just to kill you."

        Tom could barely stay upright at hearing this. Only the certainty that this man would enjoy seeing him fall kept him on his feet. "Why?" was all he could manage once more.

        The man shrugged, but kept the gun pointed at Tom. "Its what I like to do. Jesus, do I really need a reason? You like quicksand. I like killing stupid assholes. The internet makes killing as easy as shooting fish in a barrel. So many trusting, gullible people to weed out."

        "Youre going to shoot me?"

        "If you make me, yeah. But I thought instead Id give you your wish. Start walking backwards."

        "What?"

        The man raised the gun, aiming it between Toms eyes. "Dont fuck with me, dickweed. Im not in the mood. I said, start walking backwards."

        Tom cringed and did as he was told, glancing backwards as he stepped. Within a few steps, he could sense the change in the surface. His feet were sinking in as he stepped backwards, not much, but he could hear them slurp as he picked them up, could feel a slight tugging on them as if walking on flypaper. His captor stepped forward with him, walking onto the beach in front of Tom, keeping the gun pointed right at him. "There," the man said. "Good enough."

        Tom glanced back down at his feet. They werent there anymore. He was already shin deep in the sandy soil. Tiny bubbles rose and popped in the liquefied earth. "This is quicksand?" he asked.

        "You bet. Bottomless and the real stuff."

        Tom wished he was in a better position to enjoy his first encounter with his dream substance. Even without moving, keeping totally still, he was sinking into it. In a matter of seconds he was up to his knees. It felt sandy, not muddy like the previous stuff hed been in, and it felt snug about his legs, holding him steady. Gently, he tried wiggling his legs, but they were held virtually immobile. He stared up at his captor and wondered what would happen next.

        "Youre not the first, you know," the man spoke suddenly.

        Tom said nothing. He didnt know what to say in this situation that could possibly help.

        "Somewhere below you are two other losers, their bodies rotting away in the mud."

        Tom winced and reflexively looked down. He didnt know whether to believe this guy or not. This maniac had already proven himself an excellent liar. Still, it was a gruesome image, to think of other bodies perhaps just a couple feet below him. And getting closer to him all the time. He was now almost crotch deep in the sand. The situation was very odd, and quiet. Nothing but the sound of his would-be killer mocking him and a soft bubbling as he descended.

        "Think of it, what always gets other serial killers caught is the evidence, the bodies. Nobody ever discovers the bodies this way. Quicksand is the perfect garbage disposal. I dont have to mess about with lye, or crawlspaces or any of that crap. I can just sit here and watch you die."

        "Why? Why kill me at all?"

        "Why the hell not? Its fun. I mean, your life is in my hands right now," he replied. He held his hand out towards Tom as if offering help, and then snatched it quickly away. "If I want to, I can let you live. If I dont, you die. Can you wrap your feeble mind around that? I get to watch you as you die! I get to stand here and look into your eyes as they sink under the quaking muck. Ill watch the last bubbles of your breath, of your life, break on the surface! Where else can you hold that kind of power? Its the ultimate rush."

        Tom felt the coolness of the quicksand against his belly now, his shirt clammy against his skin. He had to look upwards now to see the madman who had him trapped. Tom had always thought that if he had to die, it would be best for it to be in quicksand. He was quickly reassessing that belief. The bottom line was, he didnt want to die in this stuff. Kicking his legs beneath the surface, Tom was finally able to loosen it up a bit, and the surface quivered and rolled about him. Desperately he tried to consider some way out of this predicament. Nothing came. His only chance was for this guy to allow him to climb out or to offer help. Neither seemed very likely. The guy was crazy. He was a serial killer or at least wanted to believe he was, and neither possibility offered Tom much hope. "Come on, buddy," Tom tried, reaching up to him. "Youve proved your point. Youve made a fool out of me, now quit trying to scare me and help me out."

        The man laughed at Tom, sliding his gun into the waistband of his jeans. "You made a fool out of yourself, dork. God, you were the easiest yet. The other assholes werent as trusting as you were. I had to get my girlfriend to at least talk to them on the phone before they were convinced I was a female. You just were so eager to come here and meet me, I didnt even have to get her involved. You just couldnt wait to try quicksand with me. Well, you got your wish. Are you turned on? I am."

        "Your girlfriend is in on this too? She helps you get your victims?"

        "Nah, she just thinks Im playing mind games with some sick fucks, and shell damn well do anything I tell her to do or shell end up sucking mud herself. Shes basically clueless. She has no idea that Im actually luring folks up here to kill em."

        The quicksand was snugly wrapped about Toms chest now. His arms remained raised at an angle over his head, no longer reacting to the gun, but to the quicksand instead. His heart hammered in his chest. He was going to die. Christ, he was going to die in quicksand.

        "Come on, man, Ill give you anything you want! This is crazy! I dont want to die here."

        "The only thing you have to offer me is your life, and Ill be taking that very shortly now, I think. I was wondering how long it would take before you started begging for your life. They always end up begging."

        "I aint begging," Tom said, but without much force or conviction. "I just want out."

        "And I just want to see you die, motherfucker," the man laughed. "Can you imagine what its going to feel like when you go under? Picture it, man. You wont die immediately. There will be a minute, maybe two, while you feel yourself completely encased. It will be dark, your eyes scrunched shut. Your cheeks will bulge from the air you brought down with you. Even though you are as good as dead, your body wont want to give in. Youll squirm, fight. Its fascinating to watch from above as the quicksand roils and churns and you know that the person is dying just below the surface. Youll fight, still praying that someone will come to your rescue. Finally, unable to stand it any longer, your mouth will open, gasping for air. But air wont be there. Quicksand will be there. It will rush into the void like a flood; thick, grimy sand flowing over your tongue, down into your throat. Youll try to gag, but there will be nowhere to get rid of it. Your brain will retreat and it will be all over."

        The quicksand was now up to his shoulders, and Toms arms, tired, rested on the surface, slowly dimpling the sand as they began sinking in. Looking up at his killer, it was obvious the man enjoyed what was happening, and his erection was plainly outlined in his jeans.

        The man stepped forward then, standing right on the edge of the quicksand and looked down at Tom. A big grin split his face once more. "You came here to get fucked, didnt you pal? Well, Id say youre sure fucked now!" A smug laugh shook him as he stared down at the weary Tom.

        Tom sighed and looked down at the quicksand just inches from his face. The guy was right. At least hed gotten half his wish. Hed wanted to experience real quicksand with a woman before he died. Except for the woman part, hed made it.

        He was neck deep when he looked up again. What he saw surprised him, as there was a woman tiptoeing out of the rushes at the edge of the beach. As soon as she was on the beach she broke into a sprint. The man heard her and started to turn, but before he could complete the turn, she hit him hard with outstretched arms in the lower back. A startled cry came from his mouth and his sunglasses flipped off his face. The man flew forward, one foot connecting solidly with Toms face as he lost balance. There was a thick-sounding splash behind him, and Tom swiveled his neck about to look as best he could.

        What he saw made him shudder before bringing a contented smile to his face. Two legs were sticking upright in the quicksand. The man had stumbled in head first and had sunk quickly in the substance loosened by Toms struggles. His legs were kicking and weaving as he tried righting himself and getting his head to the surface. Yet while the mire had been loosened, it was still thick and held a firm grip, as Tom could attest. Tom almost felt sorry for the guy, trapped that way. Yet in the end it was only clear satisfaction Tom felt as the legs stopped twitching and settled, knee deep, in the bog.

        Tom turned his attention back to his rescuer. The woman standing there was fairly attractive, although a fading bruise on her left cheek tempered that. She was dressed in a halter top and cut-offs, and was staring past him at the man she had just knocked into the quicksand. With a shock, Tom recognized her. It was the woman in the photograph that hed received in the email, the woman hed come to know as Shari. Shed looked more made-up in the photo and her hair was longer now, but Tom was sure it was her. "Thanks," Tom said, hoping to get her attention.

        "Huh?" the woman said, and shook as if waking from a dream. She looked down at him. "What?"

        "Thanks for saving me," Tom repeated, and rocked his head back to gesture at his would be killer. "He was going to kill me."

        "Yeah, I know," she said. "Bob was a bastard. Thought I didnt know shit about what he did. I figured it out, though, didnt I?"

        Tom smiled hopefully up at her. "Yeah, you did." The quicksand was now under his chin. He fought to remain as still as he could, but he continued descending.

        She nodded, but still seemed somewhat dazed. Tom wondered if she was stoned.

        "Yeah, I taught him to fuck with me, didnt I? He thought he was all bad, but he wasnt shit," she continued, and looked down at Tom again. "Wow, you are in trouble, arent you guy?"

        In her way, she made him more nervous than Bob had. But then, what healthy woman would have put up with Bob for so long in the first place? Tom gave what he hoped was an encouraging smile. "I guess. Do you think you could help me out?"

        She knelt over and her hand pressed on the surface of the quicksand. It jiggled and moved as she pushed, giving some resistance to her palm. "Cool. So this is quicksand?"

        Tom would have nodded if he could, but he was slowly tilting his head back, like a sinking ship, trying to keep it above the surface. "Yeah, Id say this is quicksand."

        "Wow, and youre like, sinking in it."

        "Yes."

        "Oh man, that makes me so horny."

        Toms eyes danced about frantically. He had come so close to rescue, but if she didnt act soon he would be joining Bob below the surface. "Please," he said. "I need help."

        "Man, I killed him, watched him die. That was a trip. Now you are going to die too unless I help you, arent you?"

        "Yes," Tom said, the back of his head cradled in quicksand, his face an oval island in the mud.

        Her thighs rubbed against each other as she began squirming in place, her teeth biting her lower lip. "Mmm, but this time I can look in your eyes and watch you die."

        "Please," Tom stammered. From the frying pan into the fire, he thought.

        She sat down at the edge of the quicksand and extended a leg to him. "Here, grab on," she said, laughing huskily.

        Slowly, Tom raised his hand to the surface of the mire and reached out to her. He feared she was as crazy as Bob, but maybe he had a chance to survive with her. Just maybe. His ears were sunk in the mud now and it would take little to finish him off. His hands closed slickly about her ankle.

        "All those years, Bob was in charge," she said, her hands unfastening the top button of her jeans. "I think I like this being in charge stuff. I think you had better do exactly what I say if you want to get out of there. I can pull my leg away if I want, you know. I can let you die just like Bob. You dont want to fuck with me. I heard what he said, you know, and hes right. No one would ever find you. Right now your ass is mine. You have to make me happy if you want to live."

        Tom looked up into her eyes, hanging tightly to her ankle as his lifeline, and realized it was going to be a long afternoon.

        "Youre the boss, Shari," he sighed.

        "I know," she agreed, laughing darkly.

Copyright Kaol -- 6/99

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Page created in September 1999